


The Supersoldier’s Fucking Jerk

by fiadhfajita



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Coping, Fluff, M/M, PTSD, Swearing, fluff essentially, talks about therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiadhfajita/pseuds/fiadhfajita
Summary: "I might be a fucking jerk, but I'm a jerk you happen to be fucking."
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	The Supersoldier’s Fucking Jerk

**Author's Note:**

> AN: So I was prompted this anonymously about a month ago for my mini-fic challenge and never got around to writing it. This is something quick that I threw together. This is a car crash, I’m sorry. Bucky’s actions are OOC but meh, I got so frustrated with this.  
> FYI:Lucy = Bucky’s therapist (she’s a recurring OC throughout my one-shots)
> 
> [RE-POST! I accidentally deleted my previous account (ghostlywhitedirewolf) so am now reuploading all my old fics]

-o-

“Bucky what the hell!?” Steve shouted surveying the chaos in front of him.

A cardboard replica of his shield hung on the wall with an array of sharp objects sticking out of the painted star, ranging from the kitchen knives to pencils to Bucky’s Chinese daggers. Atop of the table lay an assortment of beer bottles, five of which held a hand written label that Steve recognised as Bruce’s ‘Supersoldier-Homebrew’ as Tony had dubbed it.

“Stevie!” Bucky called, appearing around the corner, his voice high and slightly slurring, but happy, face lighting up as he caught sight of Steve but sobering when he saw the unmasked annoyance on the face of his partner.

Steve heard an answering groan. “Oh god. I can’t cope with your level of domesticity. That is my cue to leave.”

Clint.

“What did you do to my house? Bucky there are pipes and wires behind the wall you know!” Steve exclaimed, even the sight of Bucky cheerful not enough to quell the irritation he felt at the uncharacteristic carelessness towards the house.

“I’ll leave this one to you, buddy.” Clint clapped a hand to Bucky’s shoulder as he passed him, clearly much less intoxicated than the ex-assassin but that wasn’t surprising given Natasha’s apparent intolerance to vodka and Clint’s competitive nature.

Bucky moved his metal arm in a half-hearted wave. “See you later.”

“See you, Steve.” Clint said quietly, making a swift exit when Steve merely glared at him.

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed, eyes dropping to the floor under Steve’s gaze.

“Steve...” he started, stopping when the other man held up a hand and pointed to the wall.

“Harbouring murderous tendencies for me, Buck?” His voice was low and almost disappointed.

He knew that Bucky hated this; he very rarely got angry, not at Bucky. Usually it took the other man deliberately throwing himself in front of a bullet or something that could potentially endanger his life in order to elicit anger from Steve. Steve hated being pissed at Bucky, had been scared of it for so long in fear of being seen by Bucky as like his previous captors. Steve had seen Bucky become totally compliant when anger was directed at him and the thought of accidentally doing that to him had scared him for so long. It had taken hours of therapy and talks with Lucy for him to finally bring up his fears and he had been surprised by her response, but he had to agree with her. Bucky wasn’t going to improve if he wasn’t introduced to everyday situations, such as people being angry when he did something completely stupid.

Bucky’s whole sense of humanity and normality had been stripped away from him. He had lost the ability to properly read people. Sure he could read their emotions, predict their next actions. But understand the reasoning behind their emotions? That had been the cause of much pain and confusion, he didn’t understand the reactions of others towards him, didn’t understand his own reactions towards others. Liking, disliking, loving and hating people hadn’t been a factor of the Soldier. Just mindless obedience.

The first person who had gotten angry with Bucky hadn’t been any of the Avengers, but instead an employee within the tower. She had thought he were a homeless person with his ragged hair and torn sweats and had yelled at him to get out. Bucky had already been having what Sam had christened an ‘absence day’, when the ex-assassin would stare blankly into space completely motionless, pale face void of all emotion for a few hours before calmly taking himself for a walk or a run. Often only coming back to himself miles away from home with no recollection of how he had gotten there and being forced to call Steve to come and pick him up, mumbling panicked apologies when Steve clung to him in desperate relief. She had yelled at Bucky and told him to get the hell out and not to come back when he hadn’t reacted to her questions of who he was with anything coherent. The poor woman hadn’t recognised him, but by the time the team had caught up with Bucky, he had been so worked up that it had taken Steve almost four hours to convince him that he could come back inside.

_She said no. I mustn’t disobey. They will hurt everyone. I can’t, please don’t make me, I can’t I can’t I can’t._

His begging had broken their hearts and Steve had been terrified for months to show any kind of frustration or anger in front of Bucky after that.

“You know I’m not. It was something Stark had sent over. Something about both of us having a shield. I can’t remember. We looked for a target and that was the closest thing, I don’t know, it wasn’t anything to do with you, Steve c’mon you have to know that.” Bucky walked forward, standing before Steve who shook his head and stepped away, beginning to pull the knives from the wall, both men cringing when chunks of plaster came away with it, hitting the floor with dull thunks.

“Steve, you don’t have to do that.” Bucky made a move to help, only to be waved away.

“I think you’ve _helped_ enough Bucky, don’t you? Apparently mindless destruction is acceptable now? This isn’t like you, what possessed you to throw knives into the wall?” Steve replied, voice harsh and irritated as the final knife came free allowing him to unhook the shield from the wall and survey the damage.

Thin holes littered the plaster, revealing the brickwork behind it, the contrasting red of the brick against the white paint of the walls looking every bit like a stab wound.

“Great. That’s another new wall. I don’t mind when it’s an accident, but why would you intentionally do that?” Steve rounded on Bucky, noting the ashamed look on his face but uncharacteristically peeved enough to ignore it.

“I..” Bucky shook his head, unable to answer.

“You’ve been like a child all week, throwing plates and cups and whatever else you have hold of. What is going on with you at all?” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away, blocking Bucky’s attempt to pull him closer.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I’m going crazy here? Stuck in this house with nothing to do. I’m not ready to help the team and I don’t know if I ever will be, but maybe I’ve had enough of being treated like I’m breakable. All I do is sleep and go running and maybe, just maybe I feel like I’m going crazy. Well, crazier than I already was... am. Maybe making a stupid bet with Clint and having a few drinks made me feel better for a little while. I don’t know Steve; it’s just a stupid wall. Now everything in your house is broken– I don’t even know Steve. I don’t know!” Bucky broke off, suddenly breathing heavily as though unsure whether to cry or continue yelling. “It’s a stupid wall, Steve.”

“But people don’t destroy things just because they’re bored Bucky! They go to the gym or the shooting range! You can’t act like a little kid because you want attention!”

“You think that this is because I want attention?” Bucky scoffed, breaking off into a laugh. “I fucking get enough attention. _Bucky are you okay, Bucky you’re upset, Bucky do you want a fucking tissue, Bucky talk about your feelings, Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky._ Maybe I didn’t want to attention. Maybe drinking and throwing knives at an inanimate object felt good. At least Clint doesn’t treat me like I’m made of glass.”

“Yeah, Clint is happy for you to stick knives into the wall. Maybe you should go and live with Clint then.” Steve waved his arm sarcastically and then paused as his words sunk in fully, hanging in front of them, cold and heavy, causing them both to freeze, Steve wishing he could take it back and Bucky open mouthed, an expression of stunned hurt on his face.

Steve jumped forward, but Bucky flinched and pushed him away.

“Bucky, I–”

“No Steve. I just... just leave me alone okay?” Bucky mumbled, shaking his head and folding his arms across his chest before turning and walking into the kitchen leaving Steve feeling like a complete jackass in his wake.

-o-

Bucky stayed in the kitchen for a while before he re-emerged, expression sheepish as he walked silently over to Steve, looking every part the kicked puppy.

He stood in front of where Steve was perched on the couch for a moment before straddling the other man’s lap, eyes never leaving Steve’s face as he moved, thighs situated on either side of the blond man’s legs. Bucky pressed his forehead into Steve’s shoulder, hands resting on the other man’s toned chest, and sighed gently.

“I’m sorry. For what I said... for what I did. I didn’t mean to upset you or make you angry. It wasn’t a good day–” Bucky paused, shaking his head as Steve opened his mouth to protest, “–wait. I know that doesn’t excuse me doing that to the house, but Clint brought around that stupid makeshift shield that Stark made as a joke and I was all pent up, so he suggested I let off some steam. I knew that you were going to rip out that wall anyway, so I figured it wouldn’t matter if there were a few holes. Then we started making bets and we had a couple of beers and damn, Bruce’s stuff is strong. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten drunk after the serum, but that stuff really works fast. We were just playing around and seeing who was the better aim with anything we got hold of. I’m sorry, Steve.”

Bucky kissed the underside of Steve’s jaw, feeling more than hearing the exhalation of breath from the other man as hands came up to wrap around him, pulling their chests closer together.

“I’m sorry too, Buck. I didn’t mean what I said about Clint, I was just mad. I’m sorry for yelling too, I don’t know what got into me, I was frustrated too and I took it out on you. But you should have just taken it down to the firing range, Buck.” Steve told him wearily, cupping Bucky’s chin and tilting his face up so that he could examine it, noting the bags under his eyes and his pale demeanour underneath the faint flush that was receding as the alcohol wore off.“You look exhausted.”

“A little. Can’t sleep. Usually running helps, but nothing is making a difference.” Bucky admitted, shrugging his flesh shoulder slightly and leaning his cheek into Steve’s hand. “I just feel twitchy and uneasy all the time. Drinking didn’t help. Well, it did, for a little bit, but now that it’s wearing off I just feel worse.”

Steve grimaced, scrunching his nose a little as he shifted, moving Bucky with him. “So you decided to put holes in the wall?”

The muscles under Steve’s hand tensed until Bucky found Steve’s eyes, seeing the humour there. “Hey I’ll put a hole in your real shield next time. I really am sorry; I’ll fix it if you want me to. Not like the neighbours are going to complain. I think Sharon is pretty much used to ignoring everything now.”

“I think Sharon is trained to ignore everything. She did ask about you though, apparently you ran past her the other morning.” Steve told him, mouth quirking slightly.

He watched as Bucky nodded, a few loose pieces of hair falling onto his face from the messy ponytail it was tied in. He was wearing Steve’s AC-DC shirt– another gift from Tony –and a pair of jeans that were a size too big and hung low on his hips, allowing Steve to move his hands down and stroke softly at the skin just above the waistband.

“Can’t sleep. Don’t know what else to do about it, short of taking those tablets that Lucy prescribed.” Bucky mumbled and Steve could feel his exhalation of breath across his face from their proximity. “But I hate how they make me feel. I can’t focus and they make my head feel muzzy. I feel more anxious on those than I do normally.”

“I could help you with that.”Steve offered, one finger snaking under the waistband of Bucky’s jeans suggestively. “Provided you’re not too drunk still. Wouldn’t want you thinking I was taking advantage.”

”I’m not drunk enough that I can’t say yes or no Steve, you know that,” Bucky smirked, ”I don’t even know if that would work. Nothing else has.”

“We could give it a shot. Can’t be a worse idea than getting drunk and throwing knives at a makeshift shield. I wonder if that could be considered desecration of the flag?”Steve raised an eyebrow.

Bucky snorted, a small smile appearing on his face before he shook his head. “No, it can’t, and thanks but I’m not really in the mood for that.”

Steve nodded, pulling his hand away gently, snaking it around Bucky’s back and pulling them flush together. “Okay.”

Bucky smiled again and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, pressing their mouths together gently.

“I’m sorry Steve. I’ll fix the wall tomorrow okay? You’re not still mad at me, right?” Bucky mumbled against Steve’s lips, deepening the kiss when he felt Steve shake his head.

“M’not mad.” Steve reassured him between kisses, hands stroking up and down Bucky’s back in a soothing motion, enjoying the way the muscles beneath them relaxed as Bucky melted into his body, arms tightening around Steve’s neck as he nipped at the blond man’s lower lip.

“You’re not upset with me are you?” Steve questioned.

“No, we were both just angry and said things that we didn’t mean.” Bucky replied.

“Good, I’ve been worried about you this week and when I saw the knives, for a split second I thought that something had happened. I think that’s why I was so pissed when I realised you’d done it for fun.” Steve admitted, scooting down the couch so that he was lay across the length of it with Bucky resting against his chest above him, the brunet’s expression earnest as he gazed down at Steve.

“I... it just felt good to do something stupid. Like the adrenaline rush I got when we used to ride that old rollercoaster at Coney Island. It was rickety and you weren’t sure you were going to come off it alive but you rode it anyways. For a moment everything didn’t matter and I know that’s so ridiculous but I’ve been all over the place this week. Like my head isn’t in the right space, no matter how hard I try to get everything straight. This seemed like a good way for me to have some fun, Clint bet me that I couldn’t get all the knives inside the star and I rose to the bait.” Bucky kissed the ‘v’ a the bottom of Steve’s throat before resting his cheek against the larger man’s chest, shuffling to get comfortable as he shifted to the side, pressing the length of his body against Steve.

“You never could resist a challenge.” Steve told him jokily.

“Hey, I never lose either. Took me 80 years but I finally got you to admit that you were in love with me. Challenge complete.” Bucky winked up at him and smirked.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Bucky Barnes.” Steve rolled his eyes and pressed his lips to the other man’s forehead.

"I might be a fucking jerk, but I'm a jerk you happen to be fucking."

“Not tonight I’m not. Tonight you’re going to get some sleep, okay?” Steve raised an eyebrow pointedly as Bucky sighed and nodded, rolling his eyes sarcastically.

“Yes Captain.”

-o-


End file.
